


I Was Lost Without You

by localgoth



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, Cunnilingus, Extended Scene, F/M, Feelings, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Garrus touches a boob for the first time in his life, Missing Scene, Oral Sex, Playful Sex, Smut, its a little awkward but sweet I hope, these two idiots figure out how to have sex with someone of a different species for the first tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:20:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22383220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/localgoth/pseuds/localgoth
Summary: The night before the Normandy Crew is about to head into the Omega Relay. Garrus meets Shepard in her cabin for some long anticipated love making.---This is the Love Scene we deserved, if only Bioware wasn't a coward
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 4
Kudos: 85





	I Was Lost Without You

Hot water dances across Shepard’s bare back as she took a moment to breath in the steam. Long showers are frowned upon on the Normandy, as with any long haul ship, but to her this is a reward well earned. It was unbelievable how something as simple as a hot shower could make her feel human again, especially after spending much too long planetside; sweat and grime collecting until she has nearly forgotten what it is like to be a part of civilization, not on strange alien planets and confined to a suit or battle armor. She finishes scrubbing down and took attention to her lower parts. Not only was it a much needed clean, she only wanted to be polite to her company tonight, letting her lathered hand slide across coarse pubic hair, slipping between the folds of her genitals as she cleaned. It almost was a tease of what was to come, and she lets her eyes close and imagine that the hand isn’t her own, but Garrus gently tracing along her shape. She stops long before she can get too worked up and once she is satisfied with her cleanliness. 

Shepard shuts the water off, steps out into the heavy steam of a much too long hot shower and wraps a towel around herself before exiting into the cabin. Disappointment falls in her chest when she sees she is alone, somewhat hoping he would already be here. A lot of talk had gone into this night. The suspense was starting to get to Shepard. She did not want to pressure Garrus to move faster than he wanted to, but she would have preferred a spontaneous hook up over all of this anticipation. That way she would not have to be left feeling like she was now. Eager, anxious, excited, nervous. She had done far more dangerous things and yet a single man was making her feel this way now.

She disappears back into the bathroom to change. She was tired of the heaviness of armor and the rigidity of uniforms. When Shepard had the choice to dress how she wanted, she always opted for the most comfortable. Maybe it wasn’t sexy, but a black N7 hoodie and loose fitted cargo pants was what she liked. She did not bother putting a bra on either, tired of underwire that poked into her and figuring it wouldn’t stay on for long anyway. 

When she finishes in the bathroom for good, she sees what she had wanted to see the first time. Shepard smiles to herself, folds her arms across her chest. She knew she invited Garrus up, but he hadn’t bothered to knock and it was obvious he had forgotten.

“Hey,” The greeting was chopped and unusual for Garrus. He lifts a hand to show what he considerately brought. “I brought wine. The best I could afford on a vigilante salary.” Garrus moves towards the control pad on the wall, tapping a few buttons, and then the captain’s cabin came to life with an upbeat song - one Shepard assumed was popular, but she never had the time to pay attention towards the trends in music. 

She gave a small shake of her head. She hated dancing - or at least doing so sober. Shepard knew how she looked when she danced - awkward and robotic. There was something understood, Garrus was making a valiant attempt at setting a romantic mood, but Shepard could only guarantee him if he insisted on using dancing to aid the mood, he would be greatly disappointed. Shepard remains still like a statue, waiting on Garrus’ cue. In a way, the surprise was ruined when they had already agreed ahead of time what tonight was going to look like, but seeing how much forethought and effort Garrus had put towards it, she was starting to think it was worth it - if not only to watch perfect Garrus struggle with something for once in his life. 

“If you were a Turian, I’d be complimenting you on your waist, or your fringe,” Garrus remarks. She understood her physicality was a little different than Garrus was used to. A small voice inside of her head wonders if she was attractive to Garrus, a brief moment of insecurity Shepard isn’t comfortable with. She preferred it when she didn’t care what men thought of her or if they found her fuckable or not. She didn’t want to admit she cared what Garrus thought now, though. Perhaps she was in a way similar to how Garrus was attractive to her. He looked very little like a human, save for ambling upright on two legs, an arm on each side of his body, a pair of eyes and a mouth. Similarities ended there. “So...your, uh, hair looks good. And your waist is…” He seems to struggle to find the right word. “Very supportive.” An amused smile filled Shepard’s face. If Turian’s could sweat, Garrus would be drenched by now. It was obvious he was trying. Trying to be romantic, while treading carefully, attempting not to ruin the mood with a comment that seemed acceptable by Turian standards but off color to humans. “Hopefully that’s not offensive in human culture,” Garrus quickly corrected himself. “Crap. I knew I should have watched the vids,” He averts his gaze. Shepard was almost caught off guard. Garrus was always confident on the battlefield, always had some witty comeback to anything said to him. This bashfullness was rare, but an endearing look on him. Her heart swells with affection for him. 

“Woah! Consider me seduced, smooth talker,” Shepard replies, dramatically. As if she were one of those dames in a vid. She’d seen enough and decided to save him the mortification. “Now shut up and stop worrying,” She adds, before moving past Garrus to turn the music off. Dancing was out of the question. 

She hears Garrus sigh. “I’ve just seen so many things go wrong,” Garrus confesses. “I want something to go right. Just once. Just..” He breaks off as Shepard places her hand on his cheek - the one still bandaged. 

She remembers how scared she was of losing him. She had lost many people in her life. Her parents. Her neighbors. Fellow soldiers who fought beside her. At some point, Shepard had allowed herself to believe she had reached the maximum amount of hardship she could handle, that from this point on she would be invincible, that nothing else could get to her when she had already seen it all. That was until she saw the glare of a rocket as it came too close to a friend, his blue blood splattered across the floor and she was not quite sure if Garrus was going to wake up. She hadn’t realized how much she missed Garrus until she woke up with strangers on a Cerberus ship, and none were as trustworthy as the Turian who helped her take down Saren. She hadn’t realized how much he meant to her until she was up all night, waiting to hear from the medbay if she could see Garrus yet - if there was a Garrus for her to still visit. Almost losing him once was enough, but with next wake, they were about to do yet another stupidly impossible mission that was more than likely going to get them killed. Now, more than ever, was the time to spend with the people dear to her, and there was no one as dear to her as Garrus was.

They lean foreheads together. Garrus touches her shoulder gently. It is a loose embrace. Shepard lets her eyes fall shut, allowing herself to be in the moment. She had never been so physically close to Garrus before. It had always felt like there was a barrier between them that she could not cross, despite the fact that there really was no one she was closer to than Garrus on this ship. She breathes in. Garrus smells fresh, hinting that she was not the only one who cleaned up in preparation for tonight. But there’s a familiar musk of gunpowder beneath it all. 

“This wasn’t exactly the tone I had been hoping for,” Garrus confesses, sheepishly. Shepard gives a little laugh. They were supposed to be forgetting. It was supposed to be a distraction, “stress relief” if she remembered correctly. Somehow they were doing the opposite.

“It was sweet,” She remarks. “How much thought you put into all of this.” Her hold on Garrus loosens a little, her hands resting on his hips. “I mean, you did make me wait for it, so I had been hoping…” Shepard cut off. Garrus gives an embarrassed laugh. 

“It’s different,” He defends himself. “And, well, I’m nervous.” That much was obvious. “And you aren’t,” He accuses, though Garrus could not be further from wrong.

“I’ve been with other species before,” Shepard relays, with a shrug. It wasn’t something she advertised, but she did not keep it a secret either. Living on the Citadel, it seemed more rare for someone not to stray from their species, if not at least once. Of course Turian was a little different from an Asari, but if she could adapt then, she could adapt now. “You’re not special, Garrus,” She teased him, touching just beneath his chin to make him look at her. Him being a Turian wasn’t what made her nervous. It was getting close to someone again. Past relationships were just a warm bed between missions, but Garrus was nearly always by her side on every mission she went on. It was safe to say she felt more strongly about him than anyone else, and that knowledge alone scared her. But on the brink of possible death, Shepard could not let that get to her. If she wanted to cower and guard her heart from heartbreak, she could miss out on the one chance she would have with someone she truly cared about - and that was the worse choice.

“You brought wine?” She recalls, eager to move the conversation onwards. A quick search and she spots the bottle that had been set aside. She picks it up and moves towards the loveseat in the corner. “Come. Have a drink.”

“You are maybe a little nervous, though,” Garrus deciphers with deadly accuracy. Shepard ignores his words, dangles the bottle by its neck to beckon him over, and flourishing her ankle flirtatiously. She pours a glass and hands it towards Garrus.

“Can you have this stuff?” She asks, peeking at the bottle, but to be honest, she has no idea how to differentiate between what human foods Garrus can safely consume and what would give him an allergic reaction or worse. 

“I don’t know if it’ll get me drunk,” Garrus sips from the glass. It’s a small dig. Human booze tended to be on the weak scale, especially compared to Turian or Krogan brews. She pours herself her own glass. Garrus has already emptied half of his. 

“I lost you once, you know,” He speaks. Shepard won’t look at him. While dying hadn’t been ideal, she must have gotten the easier end of the deal. Being dead was so incredibly easy. Even being inbetween life and death on Miranda’s lab table was like a long heavy sleep, devoid of any dreaming, any feeling. Two years passed her by and she felt nothing. But everyone else - they had lost a friend. 

“I’ll try not to repeat it,” Shepard jokes, but her voice is distant. She busies herself with taking a drink. The wine isn’t great, but she imagined Garrus really hadn’t been pulling in the credits with his vigilante business, so she kept the observation to herself. 

Garrus’ hand is on her arm. Shepard stares at it. A pale green on brown. He’s leaning in and Shepard hazards a look at him. Her usual stoic face soft and twisted into a small pout. An apology. She did not mean to hurt Garrus - or any of the others. Her death had come prematurely and unexpectedly, and once she had gotten spaced from the Normandy, there was nothing else she could do but suffocate slowly in open space. Still, she felt guilt. For leaving everyone behind. She learned how everyone coped and moved on in the two years of her absence, but there was still hurt. She could see it in Garrus’ eyes. 

“I’d like to kiss you, Shepard,” Garrus confesses. Shepard tries to swallow her emotions, but it’s been proving difficult lately. There’s too many and she’s vulnerable. He can read right through her.

“Permission granted.” She consents with a small joke, but her tone is far from humorous. The space between them closes. Kiss is a bit of a loose term, when it comes to doing it with Turians. With no lips, it is more like Garrus leaning his mouth into Shepard’s, while her lips seemingly do most of the work.

The first kiss is quick and small, but their mouths come together once more and Shepard enthusiastically presses into it. A hand snakes along Garrus’ back, touching his neck, just beneath where his crest starts. His skin feels rougher there and she likes the way it scratches back as her fingers tickle against it. 

He mirrors her actions, no doubt finding her short haircut much softer as his claws tilled through her tight curls. His tongue presses against her lips and Shepard takes it as her cue to part her lips. Garrus’ tongue slides in, tastes of the cheap wine. She moans lightly. 

“Your tongue is a lot longer than I thought it’d be,” Shepard remarks, her eyelids heavy over her brown eyes.

“It’s how we Turian’s compensate for no lips,” He is quick to jest in return. His kisses are wet from their mixed saliva. They slowly begin to stray from her lips and along her jaw. His teeth scratch lightly at her neck. Shepard sighs, leans her head back to give him better access. His tongue slides out, drags along her collarbone and wraps around her neck before returning to his mouth. 

“I like it,” She comments about his tongue once more. “I can find good uses for it,” She adds. Garrus is leaning into her ear, speaking so low it sounds like a growl with his Turian voice. 

“None that I haven’t already thought of, I promise,” He speaks. Shepard meets his eyes, lips tugging into a playful grin. She wonders what thoughts he had about this moment - he certainly had plenty of time to think it over - and hopes he will show her them tonight.

She unzips the hoodie further, pulling it down to expose her shoulders and letting it drop from her torso. She catches him looking at her breasts. He seems unsure about the extra fat tissue mammals had on their chests, Turians possessing nothing similar. “You can touch them,” She gives him permission. His eyes meet her’s, as if needing extra reassurance. “It feels nice when you do,” She encourages. 

“To touch? Or to be touched?” Garrus asks, which earns a laugh from Shepard. 

“Both,” She reassures. He’s hesitant, unsure of what to do. It takes a few tries, seeing what feels right. He cups, pressing in a gentle squeeze. 

“You’re very soft here,” He remarks. Humans are soft nearly everywhere, compared to a  Turian, but she’s happy its a positive quality to him. His skin is rough, especially on exceptionally sensitive skin, but Shepard can see how careful he is being, the curiosity she sees in his eyes as he explores the alien-to-him qualities of her body. He focuses on her nipples, using the pads of his fingers instead of the clawed tip to draw circles around them. Shepard’s breath hitches. She’s getting wet where she is still dressed. He knicks her then, unintentionally, pressing a little too hard on her nipple with his claw. Shepard hisses a breath in. 

“That’s a little rough,” She warns him. It was an accident, and in all honesty, he did better than the first human boy she let touch her breasts, who seemed to think they were akin to stress balls. 

“I’m sorry,” Garrus stops, looks a little embarrassed. Shepard touches his mandible again, ignores the slight sting of her sensitive nipple. 

“Hey,” She seeks his attention. “I’m not looking for tonight to be perfect,” She tells him. First times hardly are, even with familiar physiology. “What matters is we’re together.” And she was as eager to learn Garrus’ body for the first time as she was to let him explore her’s. 

She takes this moment as a good opportunity to switch focus onto him for a little bit. “C’mon, I’ve never seen a Turian shirtless before.” Garrus breaths a laugh at her words, then grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head.

“You are watching all of the wrong vids, then,” He remarks. His skin is rough and ridged even on his torso. She spots no nipples, no belly button - a surprise knowing Turians gave live birth. His hump rose over his back, encasing his neck protectively. Shepard stares for a moment, unsure.

“Where does it feel good to touch?” She asks. Her breasts were a dead giveaway. Looking at Garrus, she didn’t know if he even felt anything when she touched his thick carapass.

“Here.” He takes her hands into his own and guides them to his neck, the part inbetween the hump. The skin is softer there where Shepard traces her fingers along it. Garrus closes his eyes as Shepard lets her fingers wander over the slopes of his neck and hump. She smiles to herself. She never would have guessed, but is happy to be bringing Garrus pleasure. 

Her fingers slide from sensitive skin, down the grooves of Garrus’ torso - unlike any human muscle pattern she had seen before. They stop at his pants and she looks up at him expectantly. 

“Well you don’t have to stop there,” Garrus tells her, satisfying Shepard unspoken question of consent. They remove the pants together. Shepard makes an exception to her policy of touching for Garrus tonight. Her hands are all over him - now touching the bare skin of his thighs, his hips - so many unusual angles she never would have guessed from looking at him in his armor. Her fingers rest on his groin. It was near smooth with the exception of something that looked like a slit inbetween his legs. It wasn’t terribly similar to a vagina, higher up on his groin. It did look like it was oozing some sort of fluid, much like Shepard knew was happening with her own genitals at the moment. 

“Turians…” Garrus began to explain, when he noticed Shepard’s confusion. “It’s internal, but comes out during arousal.”

“Thanks for the anatomy lesson, Mordin,” Shepard replies. Garrus flinched at the remark. 

“I need you to not mention Mordin if I’m going to - ,” Garrus cuts off, as Shepard is already moving. She rests her head between his legs, giving the slit a small kiss. He releases a pleased breath that encourages her. She puts her mouth over the opening, sucking on it and letting her tongue tease between the slit. She can feel it opening. More liquid is oozing into her mouth, but it lacks any discernible flavor. Still, she laps as if it is delectable, and hearing the way Garrus’ breaths catch - it is a treat to her. 

A small point presses out of the slit - the head of his cock, she assumes. She twirls her tongue around it, encouraging it’s breach. She sucks on what length he is giving her, letting her tongue drag across the seemingly sensitive head. 

“Shepard!” It’s a groan as it leaves his mouth. His hand rests on her back and it takes some effort on his part not to scratch her hard enough that she will bleed. 

She feels the remainder of his length extend, let’s it penetrate into her throat as she continues to suck on the member. Now at peak arousal, she lets her head bob as she moves up and down on him, teasing to almost pull off his cock before sinking back down again. 

Garrus moves beneath her, his back arching in pleasure. She wraps a hand around the base of his shaft, holding it steady. He struggles to decide where he wants his hands, but settles on one in her hair, the other grasping the sheet of her bed. Her thumbs strokes him as she works. “Fuck, that’s good.” He purrs. She wants to ask if it’s better than any Turian he had been with, but she knows her stubby human tongue puts her at a disadvantage. Instead, she shows him what human lips do best, creates that wonderful tight seal along his member until she hears his breath hitches. 

She’s tempted to pull off but she doesn’t. “Oh, Commander!” It’s a prayer to whatever gods Turians have, if they believe in any; a shout that Shepard is certain most of the crew will hear on the floors below, but she doesn’t care. His cum does have a taste - salty and stings as it touches her taste buds. Shepard touches her lips, utilizing her skills of making decisions and fast, and ultimately decides to spit it out in a tissue she snags from her nightstand. Her tongue still tingles once it’s gone. 

“Sorry,” She apologizes, but Garrus is still lost in a bliss of his own. She wipes her mouth of the excess cum. “Mordin said some tissues might cause an allergic reaction - and I think he wasn’t joking.” She doesn’t regret it though. The discomfort on her tongue is tolerable and it was worth the curiosity sated. If there ever was a next time, they could use a condom. 

Shepard lays next to Garrus, meeting his eyes. She touches his neck, letting her hand slowly sneak back towards the Good Area. “How was it, Big Boy?” She asks. Garrus’ mandibles pulse at a quick rate she assumes matches his heartbeats at the moment. He nods in silence, heavy breaths drawn in with desperation. She is patient for them to even out again, taking the time to let her eyes wander over Garrus’ body. Stars, she hoped she had another chance to do this with him again if they ever made it out of the Omega Relay. There is so much more she wanted to try with him. 

Her eyelids fall heavy over her eyes. Garrus touches her shoulder. 

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” He speaks. Her dark eyes flicker open, a smile forms on her lips. 

“In your dreams, Vakarian.” He leans down and touches his mouth to her’s again. 

“I still have to do you,” He whispers. She feels the gentle scratch of his claws along the sides of her body. She had to hand it to him, he had already mastered how much pressure he could put on human skin. 

His tongue flicks out again. It lands on her sternum and slowly drags around her breasts. She hisses at the way it clings and tugs at delicate skin. His tongue laps at her nipple. Shepard squirms at the wonderful touch, her lower body desperately wanting the action her upper is receiving. 

Her fingers trace down her hips until she blindly finds where her pants are resting, and she tugs them down her legs. Her knees bend, exposing the part of her that’s sleek with arousal. She catches Garrus’ eyes as he observes. He touches her, rubbing gently with the back of his finger so as not to risk sharp nails against her most sensitive parts. 

“Is it good there?” He asks. He had grazed her clitoris with his knuckle and she involuntarily writhed beneath him. 

“Yes,” She confirms. “That’s a very good spot.” She watches as he rests his arms on other side of her, holding him up so little, if any, weight is pressing onto her. His mandibles twitch in thought and his mouth is ever so slightly agape. Shepard nods, feeling the heat in her cheeks. She hopes she knows what he was thinking, because she feels it in every limb of her body desire for him to do it to her. 

He moves down, his head traveling to her thighs. Shepard releases a premature breath, turns her head up towards the headboard and allowing her other sense to relay what is happening.

His tongue - his gloriously long Turian tongue, presses against her entrance, laps at already sleek skin. It’s slow, like he’s giving particular thought to her taste, but he makes no comment. Shepard touches his hump, let’s her hands slide down to the sensitive parts of his skin as his tongue makes a map of her labia.

“Mmmh,” She hums to herself. His tongue drags across her clitoris and she grasps onto his hump, holding on tight. “Fuck me!” She gasps. Her nethers flushed with blood and she has the overwhelming desire to feel Garrus inside of her. His tongue twists a bit, rests at her entrance, and then slides in. She writhes with pleasure, a leg wrapping around Garrus to give him better access, but already he is deep inside. She feels the tongue twist inside, retreat and press in again. It repeats, and repeats, and Shepard is sure she will never get enough of it. 

His tongue slides out, drags the length of her with particular attention to her clit. She rocks her hips into him, inching closer to her own orgasm. It’s difficult for her to look at him, knowing what an absolute mess she must look like to him. She hates being vulnerable, and yet here she is. Her chest heaves with desperate breaths. She lets her eyes fall shut as she comes undone. The tension and the release, the pulse that vibrates through her body, an expulsion of fluids that drip along her thighs. 

Garrus holds her in her silence. She, too, needs a small breather before she can find the words to speak, but she lets it last a little longer than necessary, because she likes the feeling of being held by the Turian. Her mind swirls with thoughts and feelings.

“You called me Commander,” She finally speaks after she had enough of the silence. She grins up at Garrus. By now, she is mostly just Shepard to him, so the title stuck out as odd to her. “You have some sort of fetish?” She teases him. Garrus’ mandibles twitch again in a way that suggests he is uncomfortable. 

“Uhhh,” His voice purrs. “But how about that excellent tongue work I displayed.” Shepard reaches a hand, rests it on his mandible. 

“That was pretty good.” Their mouths meet in a brief kiss before Garrus repositions in a way that is more comfortable to hold. He rests an arm along Shepards waist. She keeps a hand in the shadow of his neck and they are both quiet. She wishes she could hold onto this moment longer. Sleep is long overdue by this point, and she should be tired from the work they had done together, but she isn’t. She’s awake and haunted by the precise reasons that lead to the agreement of them sleeping together. It was meant to be a brief distraction, but Shepard never wants to return to reality. Is it too late to abandon ship and fuck off into some unknown colony and live her days happily with Garrus? She knew such a lifestyle would prove uncomfortable for them both, especially knowing there is a war out there they should be fighting. Still, it’s an entertaining thought, and while she is more scared than she cares to admit of losing Garrus or any of her crew on their mission tomorrow, she realizes that now more than ever she has a reason to survive and to continue to fight - and he is resting right besides her.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is much appreciated!!


End file.
